


A Matter of Time

by mercscilla



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercscilla/pseuds/mercscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their story is kind of like one of those five-act plays that her father loved so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Intentionally, I was going for one of those five+one things but then it all turned upside down and I'm not even sure I've got that five-act play thing right. *facepalm* ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy it! :D  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own neither the show nor the characters. I don’t earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

Clarke's using the water basin behind the ship to clean up after having just saved Jasper's life for a second time in a four-hours surgery with nothing more than the contents of a med kit and guided by her mother over Raven's radio when she's hit by a dizzy spell. Her vision blurs and she sways on the spot, groping blindly for something to hold onto.

“Careful,” it sounds to her left and and she feels hands gripping her shoulders to steady her. She keeps her eyes closed and waits till the world has stopped spinning before slowly blinking up at her savior to find Bellamy watching her closely, concern written all over his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods, and gives him a tired smile.

He studies her with narrowed eyes. “You should rest.”

“I have to check on Jasper first—”

“Octavia is watching him,” Bellamy cuts her off, holding her in place. “You, on the other hand, need rest.” He releases his grip on her left shoulder to gently brush a strand of her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers linger for a moment, warm against her cheek, before his hand falls back onto her shoulder. “What you did back there...that was remarkable.”

There's nothing mocking about his words, only admiration and genuine respect, and she feels blood rushing to her face at the look on his face, steady and strangely intense. He takes a step closer, his fingers tightening on her shoulders, and her breath hitches. His eyes flicker to her mouth, then back up again, and everything seems to come to a halt.

“Clarke?” Finn's voice comes from behind them, and Bellamy's hands drop to hang by his sides before he steps back and moves away, his expression smoothing out to a blank mask.

She doesn't get much rest that night.

*~*

It's become mandatory for everyone to know the basics of fighting and defending themselves, and today Clarke is with Octavia on the training ground, teaching her a few of the moves Well's had taught her, when Bellamy stops by.

She knows the second he's there, watching silently from the shadows, and it puts her on edge, her skin tingling with anticipation. Pulling herself together, she tries to block his presence from her mind and it works until—

“You fight like a girl, princess.”

Octavia snorts. “You're one to talk, _Bella_.”

Bellamy ignores his sister, keeps his eyes on Clarke, and she resists the urge to cross her arms. Instead she raises an eyebrow at him. “In case you haven't noticed, I am a girl.”

“Oh, I have noticed.” He gives her a slow once over, his mouth curling up in a wicked grin, and it slips right under her skin. “How about you show me what you've got?”

She knows, he's provoking her for reasons she can't fathom, and while a part of her is telling her to get away as fast as possible, another part, some more reckless part, wants to show him exactly what he's getting himself into.

“Fine,” she says, and his grin widens as he takes his sister's place.

Clarke keeps her expression neutral, doesn't project her intended moves, and the first strike does take Bellamy by surprise. He stumble back, rubs the spot where she hit him, and she can't help but let a small smug smile escape.

Something flashes in his eyes, and before she has a chance to react, he reaches for her wrist, tugs it behind her back and spins her into his body in a surprisingly-dexterous show of skills. His other hand grips her other wrist, her back pressed against his chest, and she feels his warm breath on her neck as he leans down.

“Good, but not good enough.” He chuckles low, clearly thinking he's won, but then Clarke makes her move.

She slams one foot down on his and her elbow into his stomach, and he exhales in a hiss through his teeth, his grip on her loosening. Turning around, she kicks at his legs and sweeps his feet out from underneath him.

He goes down with a surprised grunt but not before taking her with him, and they land on the ground in a tangled mess of arms and legs, the breath knocked out of them. She ends up sprawled across his chest, his hands on her hips, their faces only inches apart, and suddenly, she finds it hard to breathe for another reason altogether.

Her heart's pounding, echoing in her ear as they stare at each other, and then his fingers flex against her side, slipping under shirt, and she startles at the sensation, aching involuntarily into his touch. Bellamy's eyes grow darker and he leans up as he pulls her down—

A throat clearing bursts the bubble and they jump apart. Avoiding Bellamy's gaze, Clarke scrambles to her feet and mumbles something about medical supplies.

She feels his eyes following her as she walks away.

*~*

The discovery of the love-triangle she finds herself stuck in leaves Clarke torn between feeling something close to betrayed and disappointed. It's not like she has a broken heart, it hasn't gone that far with Finn, but it still hurts to see him with Raven, and she figures that some distance could help to soothe the pain.

The moment she steps past the camp border and into the woods, the weight on her chest begins to feel less heavy. For a while, she looses herself in her passion, looks for new herbs and plants, tries to figure out what they could be used for, and stocks up those they've already collected. In her mind is no place for Finn, Raven and all that emotional baggage.

“He's an idiot.”

Clarke whirls around and raises her knife. A second later, she lets her hand drop to her side and glares at the person stepping out of the treeline.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she says firmly, and starts to turn back to the tree she's been cutting moss from, but Bellamy reaches out to gently wrap his fingers around her wrist.

“ _He is an idiot_ ,” he repeats, and Clarke bites her lip, her eyes closing at the stingy sensation in her chest. She wants to run and hide, but Bellamy's not letting her go, draws her closer instead and slides his hand up her arm, and her eyes snap open as she feels his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. Her lips part and a shiver runs through her as he strokes her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“I'd never—” He breaks off suddenly, his eyes dark and wide, and before she can react, Bellamy lets go of her, turns around and disappears into the underwood, leaving Clarke with the strange feeling of icy fire burning beneath her skin.

Whatever this new thing between Bellamy and her is, it's tempting and terrifying in equal measure, but she's not afraid to fall.

When she finally returns to the camp, she breaks up with Finn for good.

*~*

They're on their way back from the junkyard with new spare parts when they're caught in a thunder storm and get separated from the rest of their group, but at the last minute, they manage to find a small cave. Rain is falling in hard and in the distance the thunder rumbles, so loud it seems to shake the Earth.

Bellamy starts a fire and Clarke prepares two cups of seaweed tea, handing him one of them once it's ready. There isn't much space and so they end up sitting next to each other, much closer than she feels comfortable considering recent events, but if she had to choose between getting rained on and Bellamy's arm brushing against hers every time he took a sip, she'd rather take the latter and endure it with gritted teeth.

They've barely talked since that day in the woods and her subsequent break-up with Finn. The tension that had always existed between Bellamy and her had suddenly felt charged with something else than antagonism, wounding around and between them like an elastic band pulling tighter and tighter, and she knows, it's only a matter of time until eventually, it's going to snap.

She's pulled from her thoughts as he shifts again to take another sip, and this time she can't resist letting her gaze furtively wander over his figure. In the light of the fire he's all male, bathed in shades of red and orange, shadows catching the hard lines of his face. His wet hair hangs messily in his face, the damp shirt clings to his broad shoulders, and every few seconds a few droplets of water run down his neck, disappearing under his shirt.

All of the sudden, he sets down hard his cup and she starts, her eyes flying up to his, and the heat burning in them dries her mouth.

His hand finds hers, his fingers entwining with hers, the pressure of them warm and almost too tight, and when he shifts this time, it is to lower his face to hers, his breath ghosting over her skin.

Something moves in the corner of her eyes, a shadow rushing towards the cave, and Bellamy must have seen it too because he curses under his breath, and they get to their feet simultaneously, pulling their knifes out and—

“ _Holy Screwdriver_. I hate rain, I truly—” A shivering Monty stumbles into their hideout and comes to a sliding halt in front of them. “Oh, thank god.” 

As the storm outside slowly dies down, Clarke realizes that the one between her and Bellamy is just starting to break.

*~*

She's restocking her medical supplies when Jasper bursts through the parachute curtain, babbling something about Bellamy and metal spikes and blood. Pain clenches in her chest and Clarke drops the bandages she's been sorting, grabs her med bag, and follows him on unsteady legs, trying to stay as calm as possible but her mind is coming up with a dozen different worst case scenarios.

When they arrive at the tent, there is blood and metal spikes but Bellamy is very much alive and there's only a shallow cut running across his bare chest. He's sitting on a table, glaring at his sister, and something eases in Clarke's chest at the sight.

“I am _fine_ ,” he growls, swatting away Octavia's hands. “It's just a damn scra—”

He stops talking abruptly as he sees Clarke, the muscles of his stomach tensing up, and she has a little trouble dragging her eyes away from the outline of his abs. Their eyes meet and that strange tension crackles between them again.

“Okay,” Octavia says suddenly. “Time for us to leave. We will get...something.” She looks from Clarke to Bellamy and back again before starting to drag a confused Jasper out of the tent. “Something that takes a _very_ long time to get.”

The flap of the tent falls closed behind them, and for the first time since the night in the cave, Clarke and Bellamy are alone. When they had returned to the camp the next morning, there had been reports of Grounders nearby as well as the disappearance of two of the Hundred to deal with, and they hadn't had one moment of peace. 

Until now.

It's Bellamy who finally breaks the silence. “Princess.” His voice is low, edging all the way down her spine.

“Bellamy.” She aims for brisk but it comes out breathless, and she quickly walks towards the table, hoping he hasn't noticed. “You're lucky. The cut doesn't look deep.”

Keeping it all business-like, Clarke opens her bag to get out her medical supplies but Bellamy reaches out at the last moment, stilling her movement, his thumb curving along her wrist, pressing along her pulse line, and she glances up at him.

“I'm not in mortal danger then?” He raises an eyebrow, a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth.

That breaks the ice, and she laughs, shaking her head. “No.”

“Good.” Tugging at her hand, he draws her into the space between his knees, and her breath catches in her throat as the amused look in his eyes turns to something heated. 

He curls his fingers around the back of her neck and slowly leans in, his breath fluttering over her face. Her hand comes up, her fingers pressing lightly into the warm skin of his shoulder, and Clarke feels him shudder under her palm.

Bellamy whispers her name, not her nickname, and then his mouth is on hers, lips pressing against hers, and she sinks into his kiss, fingers tangling in his hair and her body melting into his.

For the first time since they've come to Earth, everything is exactly as it should be.

\- END -

**Author's Note:**

> To all those who commented, left kudos, fav'd and bookmarked my first story: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I never expected such an overwhelming and positive response. You're all kinds of awesome! :)


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